


Reckoner

by bunnybrook



Category: I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream - Harlan Ellison
Genre: Inflation, M/M, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tentabulges, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 13:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4920790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnybrook/pseuds/bunnybrook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AM sends a tentacle beast to Ted</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reckoner

It had lured me off on my own. I followed its noises, scritching and scratching and tugging me along by my ears. There had to be something at the end of this, I thought, but in my heart I knew it was only AM. Something to eat, was my reasoning, but I knew I would only find rotten fruit. Dead grapevines. Withered pear trees. Mold-covered peaches. Worm filled apples.

I found it writhing on the ground, unsure if it was machinery or flesh. Long tubes or whatever it was made of were curled together in knots. Pink, dripping. It reached out to me and beckoned, come hither, the rounded end of one of its limbs pulling me forward. It didn’t seem dangerous with how slow it moved.

I moved my feet one step at a time, towards the beast that caught my wrists with a tendril and dragged me closer. I followed, my hands leading the way until it surrounded me. I breathed in the sickly sweet smell of the skin on its body. There’s never just sweet anymore, only sickly sweet, bittersweet. Too much candy.

Not that AM would know what candy tastes like.

The tendril had crawled up the arm of my sweatshirt. It seemed this thing was sentient. Its touch was cold and foreign, the way a doctor’s feels. I tried not to flinch away, knowing AM was watching. This thing was going to eat me and I would have to pass through its body, half digested and burned by its stomach acids.

Maybe something worse.

The tendrils reach around my stomach. I imagined we’re slow-dancing, swaying on my feet. It knocked my legs out from beneath me, bringing me down for a nice dip. My hair brushed the floor but my head didn’t touch it. My feet held above my head, the creature had a firm grip on my legs, spreading them apart, holding my arms close to my body.

It didn’t even occur to me that it would take what it did. It wasn’t as if AM had ever done this sort of thing before. The creature wasn’t coordinated enough to undo the button on my pants and, my face burning hot as it reached up my shirt, it touched my nipples of all things. I undid it for the creature because I had no other choice. It would tear my clothes if I didn’t. It reached into me and left me bare and exposed in one motion.

I knew my clothes would smell for days now, not like body odor or piss or sweat but like bubblegum. The others would know AM had done something. Smells like that don’t come naturally.

Already I was making up stories to tell them.

Benny, at the beginning, had very briefly tried hitting on me. Before AM had first spoken. He had groped and grabbed, winked and whistled. I hadn’t given him the time of day. Then he was the creature that he is now. This was the same feeling, a small amount of disgust that he dare flirt with me, the shame of being on the receiving end of such advances.

Slowly, I felt it enter me.

I didn’t make a sound except for a short breath exhaled through my mouth.

My sweater and undershirt were up against my face and I was still practically upside down. The harsh grip of the creature was terrifying. I tried kicking, which was useless, and moving my arms, which was more futile still. The creature writhed inside of me. Instinct, anatomy more than anything else, I felt myself harden. The blush on my cheeks deepened, fear and shame. I could have screamed then but the chance of any of the others hearing and finding me in such a tight spot kept me quiet.

If I had cried out maybe I would have only brought them the same fate that I had gotten. Violated by AM on a basic level. So far the tendril hadn’t stopped pushing itself into me. I could feel it in my organs, large and merciless. It pulsed inside of me. Any erection I had had was waning.

I finally opened my mouth and let out a breathless scream. There was no end to this. It stayed the same size as it pumped into my body. In until I was fuller and fuller. With a gag I realized it was in my stomach now, it has slithered through miles of intestine and digestive tracts and had found its way into my stomach. I felt it ballooning up, filling my innards with itself and I could look up and see my stomach inflating above me.

I nearly fainted at the sight.

There wasn’t anything that could describe the horror I felt looking at my stomach. The pain and nausea were unbearable, but even if I did vomit, there was nothing in my stomach. It would just be bile sliding up my throat. I could feel it now, slowly inching towards my mouth, suddenly jerking forward with great heaves. I opened my mouth. What came out was not vomit but the end of the tendril that stretched me open.

If I had had any air in my lungs I would have screamed. I breathed through my nose, tears in my eyes as I tried to stay calm. I was impaled by this creature. It controlled my body and could move me however it wished.

I let it consume me. I let the pain wash over me. I let the discomfort, like trying to swallow a child’s building block, into my head. To simply feel was the only way to survive this. There wasn’t anything to do other than let him win. There was nothing sexual about this. Around me, I heard the whirr of machinery, louder than normal.

You could always tell them, Ted.

The machine was speaking to me.

You could tell them that I held you down and raped you. You could tell them that I came in your throat and your most intimate parts. You could tell them that I took you forcefully, that you’re sore and bleeding.

He… It… laughed.

You could always tell them, and I’m sure they’d believe you but imagine the shame, Ted. Imagine the hot, burning shame as you explained your limp, the rawness of your voice. Isn’t it better to say I killed you? I don’t even touch Ellen like this.

And very slowly, the tendril pulled away and out of my body. It left my throat, the sticky substance that coated its skin still burning my lips. I was left half naked on the cold metal of the floor. Tears were still falling from my face.

Swallowing knives would feel better than this.

The feel of my pants covering me again was of little comfort. This had been a sick reminder that AM owned me, mind, body, soul. I walked in the direction that I came, listening to the echoes of the others’ voice as they spoke. Throughout it all, I hadn’t made a sound. I knew that if I were to speak now, it would sound raspy and ill.

Very quietly, the machine still laughs at me.


End file.
